The next morning, I faced packing and wondered if I could leave somethings that I had bought behind. I put the thought off as I prepared for my morning jog. Having gotten into a routing with my preparations it wasn’t more than 20 minutes before I was out the door. Although we sort of had discussed my coming back, I wanted to make sure that Sam was happy with me leaving stuff at the house.

I pushed the last ½ a mile and ended up a bit out of breath when I finished. Ted from next door was doing something to one of the cars and waved to me as I jogged up.

“Nice run huh?”

Wes is good at managing women, until his body starts becoming one. He's sleeping with two women and lying to both of them, and they respond to his shifting body in ways that confuse and excite him even as they terrify him. Jenny, the ex he wronged, is a gynecologist who knows more than what she lets on. A story about desire, consequence, and what it feels like to learn something from the inside.

---

At 5:30 the alarm doesn't go off, because I turned it off last night, but I wake up at 5:30 anyway.

I lie there in the dark with the spare blanket and the wrong quiet and the ceiling, and the body starts its inventory: breasts, the weight of them in the position I've been sleeping, the labia warm and in their soft continuous contact, the hip bones wider against the mattress. Eight seconds, maybe. Then I'm done with it and I'm just awake at 5:30 with nowhere to be.

*A Life in Plain Sight* begins with Steve, a thirty-five-year-old man whose small, fine-boned body and naturally androgynous presentation mean strangers routinely perceive him as a beautiful woman—a fact Steve has lived with for years without allowing it to complicate his certainty about who he is. Intelligent, literal, funny, intensely curious, and comfortably isolated, Steve has built a perfectly functional life around work, family, hobbies, and the conviction that *not unhappy* is good enough.

Once back at Sam’s place I set about making a bit of dinner. As we ate, I went over with Sam what had occurred with Sarah so that Sam would know if any questions arose. Since tomorrow was going to be my last full day with Sam we also discussed what the future might bring. Sam was very adamant that I come back as Barbara. He said that it had been the most uplifting time that he had had in years.

Even though I got in late I slept soundly and was up early for my morning jog followed by my stretching routine. All my preparation rituals fell into place and in no time, I was out the door. The lightness of last night hung with me as I jogged. It felt as though my feet never touched the ground. When I got back, I needed to pee so while sitting I re-examined my labia creation. After wiping I did a minor readjustment.

When Chris' neighbor suggests that they switch bodies for a day or two just to see what it's like, he agrees, even though he doesn't think that anything will happen. To his surprise, the magic spell not only works, but it also has unexpected side effects.

Chapter 2 Working Musician
Our hero(ine) is a free-lance musician

The bed was trying to keep me.

It’s coffee, I told myself for the thousandth time. Just coffee.

Author’s Note

This story is part real life. It is partly based on an inspirational story from the British Press. The latter part of the story is entirely fiction. The names used are entirely fiction, including the scant details of the Weight Loss program used, although there are several programs available here in the UK that offer a similar service.

Something's different before I'm fully awake. The weight of the blanket, or the mattress, the way my hips sit against it, two contact points spread wider than they should be. There's a warmth at my chest that isn't how my chest feels when I sleep. I lie there tracking it with my eyes closed. The body keeps giving me things I don't want.

The alarm says 5:21. I got there first, which is normal.

Marcus calls at nine.

Not unusual — he calls most evenings now, has since the hospice visit, checking in the manner he checks in which is obliquely, under the cover of other subjects, asking how I am by asking about the trial and the apartment and whether I've eaten. I've learned to receive this for what it is.

"Still you, bro?" he says, which is what he's been saying since the video call in week one, his way of orienting himself each time, making sure the person on the other end of the line is still the person he expects.

"Still me," I say.

The fluorescent over Exam Three has been buzzing all morning and nobody's put in the ticket yet. I notice it again while Aaron Bell tells me, for the second time, that he found it in the shower.

Chapter 1: The Weight of Space